


Crossed Your Mind

by Luki



Category: Dr. STONE (Anime), Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Gen, Minor spoilers for stone wars, OC death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22084813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luki/pseuds/Luki
Summary: Gen's family have a unique secret.  They're telepathic - a skill that is more a curse than a blessing.
Comments: 49
Kudos: 514
Collections: Lemonaide favs, Mixed_Fics, The Great Reads, favourite drst fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not finished, but think this works well enough as a part 1.

“Remember Gen, you must always give them enough reason to doubt.”

It’s the mantra his grandmother had uttered every day, before he’d head to school. They’d lived on the outskirts of the town, inside a traditional Japanese home, and the family bitterly held on to every acre around them they could find, no matter how good the offer that came.

It was so isolated, you could almost pretend you were the only one for miles.

Almost, anyway. And Gen enjoyed the quiet. It certainly didn’t last long when he had to walk into town, and sound started to echo in his head. While the citizens and his fellow classmates kept their voices low and polite, their inner voices were no such thing.

‘ _God, when is he going to call me?’_

‘ _Okay, so if I get A Meal today and the C Meal tomorrow, maybe I can afford two B meals-’_

“ _Ugh, I’m so not ready for that test today. I’m so screwed!”_

‘ _Dammit, I’m going to be late again!’_

Gen winces and resists the urge to cover his ears.

Psychic powers are a real burden sometimes.

* * *

In a place like Japan, filled with overpopulated cities, telepathy is not so much a gift as it is a curse. It normally runs down females on his mother’s side, but Gen happened to be one of the lucky males to have it passed down. While movies and comic books might suggest to the common man on the street that having real life super-powers would be cool, Gen will quite happily tell them otherwise.

For one thing, it doesn’t turn off. It’s a sense, as much as sight and taste, and Gen’s only saving grace is that his own seems to be limited to hearing range at the moment. His grandmother hears significantly further, and his mother…

Well, she’s not hearing much of anything any more. But it had been far.

His father does the best he can, raising Gen with his grandmother. For someone without mind-reading, his father had been a rock. A psychologist, who worked regularly with police, and had studied ESP as a hobby. It’s how he’d met his mother, and his days spent analysing witnesses and criminals made him a natural at reading people.

“If I didn’t know he couldn’t read minds, I’d honestly think he could,” his mother had told at age five, in one of her better moments. “He knew everything I was thinking just from a smile and a twitch of my hand.”

She wasn’t wrong, and it’s quite frustrating to grow up when both of your parents are impossible to lie to. On the plus side, they couldn’t lie to him either, and his younger memories are fully of happy moments.

Unfortunately, those became a lot less when his mother’s gift spiked.

* * *

It gets worse in your mid twenties. That’s the one thing that seems constant. While the radius remains almost tolerable through childhood and the teens, by 25, the mental reading spikes. How far varies, but both his mother and grandmother had been brutally honest on what his future entails.

His grandmother is the only one in the family with the gift to make it past thirty for generations. And she hasn’t left this house since she was 23. Not even the threat of bombs during the war had pried her out. She’d tried to get her daughter to do the same, but she’d ran off to university, positive she could handle it.

At first, she’d been fine. She’d studied, she’d met Gen’s old man – who found her ability fascinating, and could keep up with her despite his lack of it. They’d been married in six months, and Gen came along a year later. When he was two, they learned he’d inherited his mother’s gift, and celebrated his luck.

He was five when his mother started screaming, with the entire city suddenly pounding into her head, and they’d all packed up and moved to the house in the forest while her sanity bled out her eardrums.

Her mother had seen it coming, and tried to help traditionally. Meditation, and long walks into the country. Gen, his mother and father, would spend their weekends hiking in the forest, camping in the wild, trying to find areas that were isolated enough to make his mother’s headache tolerable. Gen is not the outdoors type, but he appreciates the lessons as things he’ll need to learn for his own safety. If he’s honest, there’s something soothing about the wild – while it frustrates his father, he likes to take off his shoes and wander barefoot when he can. It genuinely makes him feel at peace.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for his mother. The trips only help so much. Japan is a populated country, and it’s nearly impossible to find yourself outside of civilisation. While Gen might find it quiet, neither woman ever finds true success.

His father had tried to help her through modern means. Reduced his hours and thrown himself into parapsychology. Prescribed any medication that might possibly help. Sometimes it did. But she kept getting stronger. Sometimes, the voices were so loud, she couldn’t even tell who was saying what. Her mental state is so bad at times, his father sometimes thinks to himself she might have genuinely developed schizophrenia. Which is a dangerous thing to think in a house of telepaths.

On the worst nights, his mother will attack his father, both with her fists, and her words.

“You hate me!” she screams, hands trying to claw at his father’s face.

“I don’t, I love you!” his father screams back, pinning her hands down.

From his room, Gen just turned and fell into bed, burying deeper into his pillow, pretending that would drown out the words not being spoken.

Once upon a time nobody in his family ever thought to lie.

But that was a long time ago.

* * *

If there’s one thing Gen’s ability has taught him, it’s this. Everybody lies.

It’s a universal constant. A lot of people don’t even seem to know they’re doing it, but you can’t hide your true feeling from him. He learns quite young to never trust a smile, or a tear. He sees and hears first hand someone uttering words of affection while screaming abuse in their head, seen teachers feign affection for eager students when they’re mentally begging them to vanish so they can go drinking.

‘ _I like you.’_

‘ _It’s no trouble at all.’_

‘ _It’s not that impressive, really.’_

‘ _Gen, I promise, I’ll never hurt you, my baby boy.’_

Lies. Lies. Lies.

* * *

When Gen was ten, he woke up to hear his mother singing in her head. A happy, ditzy tune, that almost made him hopeful that today was a good day. That this set of drugs had finally calmed down her hysterics. In the back of the house, he can hear his grandmother thinking something quite similar, and they laugh to themselves at their need to be hopeful. It’s a thought that stays with them, right up until his mother’s musings cut straight out, leaving frightful silence.

His grandmother screams out loud. Gen doesn’t, merely jumping out of bed and running towards his mother’s bedroom.

She’s in the cupboard. She’d used a scarf. Gen thinks it might have been one he gave her, once upon a time. His grandmother tries to usher him away, but the same thought is going through her head.

His father was away during the incident, and after the funeral, starts looking at Gen differently. He doesn’t say why – he doesn’t have to. Gen doesn’t need telepathy to know that his father has suddenly realised his son has a bomb trigger in his head, and his police work falls to the wayside, focused completely on looking at psychic research, looking for something, anything, that might save him. Gen leaves him to it – it means they speak over phone while he travels, and it keeps things quiet and less depressing at home.

His grandmother has always been the bulk caretaker for him, and that definitely doesn’t change when his mother passes. If anything, life becomes easier, because they don’t have to worry about her episodes. A thought that makes both of them feel overwhelmingly guilty, so they never mention it.

To recover, his grandmother teaches him meditation and yoga, ways to calm his mind, and digs out decks of cards to show him tricks. Given their natural talent, some of ancestors were known in the magic circles – when the world was smaller, and their skills not quite as strong – they worked as magicians, or magicians assistants. She’s happy to give Gen a hobby that keeps his mind of...well, his mind.

Then, his grandmother dies when he’s fourteen, and he’s the only voice in his head for now.

* * *

When he turns sixteen, he moves to Tokyo, and gets an agent.

His father thinks he’s an idiot. Begs him to reconsider. In this day and age, Gen can still be home schooled, and go to university online. He can have an entire life without ever having to leave their little corner of the world.

Gen is mature enough to admit he might have a point – both of them understand that he has a very tight deadline on his life. But he wont live like his grandmother, caged in her own house for her own sanity. And his mother had done everything right and still ended up the way she did. Why spend years studying for a job he might not have the mental faculties to do in a decade? If that’s his inevitable fate, he’s at least going to enjoy the time he has left and spend it being rich and adored.

Knowing that people lie, is his strength. Knowing precisely what they lie about, is something he can use. While his father might suggest using it to better society, Gen won’t take the risk. Too many dark and dangerous people to interact with, and the concept is still laughed upon in a lot of enforcement agencies. Entertainment is far safer – he won’t even be the first in his family to use his skills this way.

The term is ‘Mentalist.’ An entertainer who feigns mind reading or other psychic abilities. His grandmother had taught him some family methods and the basic card tricks, so he has a pretty good base to start on. A natural talent at mental tricks, and long, painful hours in a cheap apartment, trying to block out his neighbours voices until he can manipulate a deck backwards and forwards, get him his first gig. His attractive features, and a knack for knowing just what to say, get him his first TV performance.

A year later, and he’s doing full on shows to a sold out crowd. Up to a thousand people, all watching him. All _loving_ him both in their applause and heads.

It’s a drug. A beautiful, wonderful drug that makes up for living in one of the worlds most over populated cities.

Granted, there’s always a few that don’t enjoy it. Gen takes pleasure in trying to seek them out whenever he needs an audience member to help him. The ones that are looking for the trick – Gen does try to keep his act within the realms of possible most of the time. There needs to be some way for people to guess how he does it, but every now and then, he’ll show off. Get the biggest disbeliever in the room on stage, and mentally take him apart. The look of shock, of horror, and astonishment, as this simple being had their entire world view shaken. When the revelation that they can’t tell anyone because they won’t be believed crosses their mind. It’s a beautiful thing - Gen thinks he’s personally made at least a dozen sceptics full on psychic believers by this point.

On one occasion, it’s another celebrity. He’s been booked for a special on exceptional young Japanese citizens, and he’s there for both his psychology and magic credentials. The piece was fairly run of the mill, with one exceptions – a teen by the name of Shishio Tsukasa.

Although ‘teen’ is a bit of stretch – muscles like that shouldn’t be possible on someone that young. He’s attending as an example of psychology in fighting – how the state of mind can improve anyone’s abilities. During his own display, Gen can’t deny he’s impressed. Tsukasa’s mind is calm, and focused, and terrifyingly powerful.

But he also doesn’t believe in magic. He looks over Gen with the usual polite respect that one in the media masters, but his dismissal of Gen’s talents rings clear as day to him.

As such, when the show cuts for a break, and the two of them are alone in the green room, Gen hides a vicious smirk behind a glass of water, and gets to work. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, trying to block out the voices around them and focusing on Tsukasa’s own thoughts, he’s ready to go.

“How is dear little Mirai?”

The reaction is _beautiful_. He waited until Tsukasa was drinking, and he has to fight back the smirk as the taller teen chokes on the liquid, hand trembling as he drops it to glare over at the mentalist.

Gen gives an innocent smile.

“It’s quite an impressive feat, to soldier all those medical bills on your own. For what it’s worth, I can completely sympathise.”

That’s not even a lie. Throwing yourself into work, desperately putting money together to help a family member that has no hope of ever getting better?

Oh, Gen can _definitely_ sympathise. Tsukasa however, doesn’t seem amused.

“How do you know about Mirai?” he asks, voice low. Gen completely understands – the teen has gone to extraordinary lengths to keep his little sister’s state out of the media. There’s only a handful of people who know the Strongest Primate High Schooler even _has_ a sibling.

“It is my business to know, Tsukasa-chan,” Gen offers, leaning back and resting his hand on one cheek. “I make a point to know everything about everyone I deal with. You’d be amazed at the secrets I know.”

“Is that a fact?” Tsukasa asks, body tense, and Gen grins.

“My dear Tsukasa-chan, my entire career is built on reading people,” he says. “I am young, I am pretty, and I am new to the game. On the one hand, it works for my brand, but on the other, people always think they can use me for their own good fortune. If I don’t learn how to manipulate, how to get into the heads of people, I’d never survive.”

He flashes Tsukasa a dark smirk.

“I’m sure you understand this as well as I do. This world is not fair one, but if you _know_ that, you can still come out on top.”

Tsukasa stays silent, but gives a nod of comprehension, and Gen settles back, satisfied that the indifference in the fighter’s head has been quite firmly replaced with respect.

* * *

A few months later, Gen is sporting a new black and white hairstyle, and is running through a stage performance to a regular audience. It’s a small crowd, and there’s nobody he can pick up that’s not genuinely enjoying his act, so there’s no need to psychologically gut anyone in the finale. Everyone seems happy, and he’ll give them the best show he can to reward that.

Next week, he’ll probably show off, because his father will be attending. Right now he’s in America, attending some medical conference. Gen has only seen the man in person since he left for Tokyo three times, but they call regularly. He’d come to see Gen perform twice, and once come just to yell at him, having taken great offence at Gen’s ‘psychology’ book, especially considering Gen hadn’t even finished High School – but Gen could have seen that coming without psychic powers. No doubt, he’ll roll his eyes when Gen publicly dissects the biggest sceptic in the crowd for his finale, but then he’ll laugh, and take his famous son out to dinner, before going over the newest research he has in how to keep Gen’s mind sane.

Gen looks forward to it. Even though he already knows his father has no faith whatsoever that they’ll find a cure in time, no matter what words he might offer.

He’s just completed his final act, one of the more standard ‘magical’ aspects of his performance, where he escapes from a box stabbed with knives, basking in the approving minds, when something dark and ominous hits him like a sledgehammer.

‘ _What’s happening?’_

‘ _Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.’_

‘ _Am I dying? What is this!’_

His smile falters as the voices scream inside his head. But before he can process the danger, his arms stiffen, his vision vanishes, and he has nothing left but the voices.

Oh god, there’s so many…

‘ _Is this part of the act? I don’t like this!”_

‘ _Mom! I want my mom!’_

‘ _Can anyone hear me! Help me!’_

‘ _Please! I’m scared!’_

‘ _HELP!’_

He wants to scream. Wants to run away from this darkness and their screams. But he’s as frozen as everyone else.

Has it finally happened? Has he succumbed to his family’s curse? He’s only 19, he supposed to have _time_ left...

But there’s no answer, and the crying, sobbing, frantic minds don’t let up for hours. But eventually, they start to quiet, and Gen becomes even more alarmed when he starts to realise he can pick out individual voices – the crowd thinning for unknown reasons.

It should be comforting, but with nothing to see, hear, smell...those voices are the only thing keeping him sane. He cries every time a voice tapers off.

‘ _Stay! Come back!’_ he begs in his own head. _‘Don’t leave me alone!’_

He doesn’t know how long it takes for the last voice, a young woman whose last thoughts are of her fiancé, to drift away. But the time after is horrifying. He’s never been so alone. There’s always been _someone_ on the edge of his head. This silence is terrifying.

So, when his own mind starts to drift away, its nothing but a relief.

* * *

Several thousand years later, he meets Shishio Tsukasa again. The teen is even more impressive, and the army of stone behind him does not fill Gen with confidence. Neither does his mental state –and Gen suddenly becomes exceedingly grateful his father would have been in America and is far, far away from him.

He is given clothing, which to his surprise is slightly more elaborate than everyone else, and based on traditional Japanese garb. It’s the style he’s admitted in interviews and TV appearances to being his preference, and it doesn’t take much to realise he’s being buttered up. Better clothes to elevate his position in Tsukasa’s new world. The girl who made them is torn between being happy at making something creative, and being terrified of Gen’s existence. She knows exactly why Gen’s been revived, and she’s not happy about it.

Granted, Gen also knows why he’s been revived, but he can’t tell Tsukasa that. Any more than he can tell him the one called Senku is still alive. At this point, he’s not even supposed to know the scientist’s name, so he stays mum.

He’s given a tour of Tsukasa’s kingdom, the strange caves utterly alien to him. It’s difficult to imagine that this is where Tokyo once stood. Or that this simple little cave holds the key to their revival. It’s there that he finds something truly phenomenal. The date.

Tsukasa had told it to him, but he was still wrapping his head around the concept of what happened that it didn’t register. But here it is, written on a tree, plain as day.

Gen’s reeling. Someone was awake during the petrification? The whole time? And stayed coherent enough to keep track of the date? Gen had stayed conscious longer than everyone because he had mental stimulation, and even he’s still iffy on exactly how long he was functioning. The mental feat this must have taken…

He laughs long and hard in his head when he realises Tsukasa has revived him to track Senku down. A man Gen suddenly realises he has to meet, no matter what.

So he plays along, trailing after Tsukasa, acting the role of shallow egoist, looking at his options and realising Tsukasa was his key to success in this new world – the person Tsukasa, and most of the modern world, believed he was – looking over Senku’s abandoned hut, and being directed to where Tsukasa had once left a strange blonde girl, only to return and find her missing.

Gen is given a fortnight to hunt down Senku or the village, or Tsukasa will send out a rescue team. He’s rather surprised that Tsukasa is willing to let him go alone, but then again, a more censored version of his family’s hiking trips have also made it into his biography, so perhaps it’s just rationing resources. And it does make Gen’s plans so much easier.

* * *

Once he’s stepped into the forest, and Tsukasa’s mind is no longer close enough to be heard, Gen immediately kicks off the primitive shoes he’d been offered, and sits in the crook of a tree to process what’s just happened.

The world is so quiet. That’s the first thing he truly registers. Now that he’s out of the Kingdom of Might, and away from the half dozen people up and running, it’s truly alien at how quiet his head is. There is nothing but the sounds of wildlife in his ears, and not a single stray thought in his mind.

He hasn’t been this alone in years. It’s kind of soothing...normal people don’t know how lucky they are, to have this every day.

But as much as he’d love to bask in this quiet, he somehow needs to track down this now infamous ‘Senku’ over untamed wilderness, and figure out a way back without issue. While he has some outdoors experience, he had modern clothing and supplies on hand, and there’s no markers to help him out, or minds to pick up.

Thankfully, Senku and his blonde friend didn’t do much to cover their tracks. They’re faint from time, but he does manage to follow a trail, finding an old campfire, and then wheel tracks. He also stumbles across a hot spring, which he admittedly spends a day at before moving on.

However, as he’s returning to the forest, looking to see if the marks he’s spotted are human or animal, he’s stopped still as something prickles in his head.

It’s a song. Sort of. It kind of sounds like the opening of an anime he vaguely watched one, though the words are slightly off.

...He’s pretty certain Senku isn’t the type to hum anime songs in his head, but he tries to locate it, leaving his route to find where it’s strongest.

It’s a man, petrified in stone. Clearly over forty. It doesn’t appear that he’s been damaged, although his legs have been submerged in the ground. Gen’s eyes widen as he reaches him, hand trembling as he brushes a hand on the man’s face, the song finishing with a stumble.

‘ _-or a new dawn...or was it day?’_ the man thinks. _‘Ugh, I can’t remember any more. Oh, Kagura, you’d hate me for forgetting. No, keep going. You have to.’_

He starts singing another song. This one, Gen thinks might have been a popular J-pop tune.

This man is awake. Has been the whole time. Like Senku.

Gen stills. He’d thought Senku the outlier, that nobody else could have possibly done it. But here it is, plain as day. A man keeping himself functioning by singing songs he loves – even if time has faded his memory of the words.

This man needs to be revived. It’s cruel to leave him much longer. And yet-

Tsukasa will kill him. To him, this man is a symbol of everything wrong with the world, and Gen has no desire to find out what happens if you break a statue when the mind is still functioning.

He leaves him where he lies, remembering the location as he returns to his trek, until the sounds fade from his head.

* * *

Between marking a trail, and his wrong turns, it takes four days before he comes across civilisation. A beaten mud path that’s probably used by hunters, and when he follows it, he picks up the sound of an instrument, too melodic to be natural. A few minutes later, he rests at the top of the hill, grinning at the village on the water.

The grin gets wider when he picks up an amazing smell too. It’s not perfect, but that’s definitely ramen. And the idea of eating something he didn’t have to gather himself is too good to pass up.

When he walks out of the forest, he settles on a grouping of rocks, just out of sight. A passing glance at the locals make it clear his getup will stand out like sore thumb, so he needs to stay in observation mode.

Most of the village are hoarded around a bamboo cart, and everyone’s thoughts are filled with only one thing. How phenomenal this strange food is. They’ve never tasted anything like it.

But there’s one mind that’s running at a frantic pace. Gen’s almost taken aback – it’s practically speaking another language compared to the more simplistic thoughts around him. The owner is going over the components of ramen, a string of insanely long chemical components, and most curious of all, counting seconds almost subconsciously.

Gen smiles.

Hello Senku.

Now, how to approach? The last time Senku met a fellow modern man, he was supposedly killed. Gen can’t imagine he’ll be received with much trust. Gen himself has gone and put together makeshift armour just in case the reaction is more extreme than he expects, so he should expect Senku to be at least that paranoid.

He’s still mulling it over, when an utterly adorable slip of a girl wearing a watermelon on her head hands him a bowl of ramen. She’s so focused on handing food out, she doesn’t even seem to realise he’s not a villager. Or perhaps that mask is obscuring her eyes?

The ramen itself is...well it’s a painful example of why MSG is in so much food, but the sensation of eating something cooked, that’s been even a little bit processed, is a glorious feeling. The general aura of delight and joy surrounding him definitely sweeten the bowl too. One girl even thinks about how they should stretch the rules to get the stranger into the village if he cooks like this.

The teen that can only be Senku is starting to slow down at his cart, and the crowd is dispersing in order to eat, so Gen makes his move. Something that will get Senku’s attention, but wont appear threatening.

“This ramen is making me wickedly thirsty,” he says with a smile. “A cola would be great...”

It works perfectly. While his back is facing him, Gen can see him still, processing the sentence. The blonde next to him immediately starts running through the easiest ways to kill an unknown assailant, and the next thing he knows, there’s three stone blades aimed at his throat.

The brunet he writes off as impossible to reason with. Perhaps alone, Gen could unnerve him out, but his mind is structured with iron-clad terms – there will be no convincing him to back off unless the others do too. The girl – adorable if a little trigger happy – is thinking of Tsukasa and is somewhat terrified that Gen has some kind of modern sorcery to throw at her, so must be the one that ran into the Primate High Schooler. But she’s also waiting for Senku to give the order, so she’s not an immediate threat. The other blond…

Well, a few well placed words from Gen, and his spear is replaced with ramen in a matter of seconds, and the brunet’s attention is distracted in order to yell at him. Senku then introduces them, having recognised Gen, which the Mentalist will openly admit he didn’t see coming. Though the scoffing at his book certainly does.

With the two of them down, the girl backs off, and Gen is finally allowed to face the infamous Senku one on one.

He sticks out as much as Gen does. If the hair, a two toned, cowlicked mess didn’t get a double take, the red eyes and obvious stone cracks over his eyebrows will hold your attention. On the leather of his robe, there’s a formula written down, one Gen even thinks he remembers.

But that’s nothing to just how loud his mind is. The counting is still happening, but he’s scanning Gen with Sherlock intensity, taking in his outfit, the dirt on his feet, the fact that he most likely would have been in Tokyo when he was petrified.

‘ _Threat,’_ is what Senku’s mind essentially boils Gen down to. _‘But one I can disarm_ _and redirect_ _.’_

Gen smiles, and lets his flowery words do the talking. How he had broken out alone, gone searching the forest for life, before he stumbled across the smell of ramen. The male blond is eating it up, as well as the other villagers to the side. Even the brunet looks torn. Only the blonde girl – Kohaku, he thinks he heard them call her, and Senku, are the only ones not jumping on the story.

‘ _You seriously think I’m going to buy that,_ ’ Senku thinks internally, when he finishes his spiel. _‘Like I don’t know Yuzuriha’s handiwork from a mile away?’_

Gen rather wants to laugh, his opinion of the seamstress going up. Of course the girl had tried to warn Senku the only way she could.

But strangely, Senku doesn’t call him out. Merely smirks, and assures him that he now has work to do for his ramen.

‘ _Let’s see how you handle some hard labour before your next set of lies,’_ Senku thinks, and Gen’s smile twitches.

* * *

An hour later, and any admiration Gen had once felt has long since died. Senku is the DEVIL. It’s not just him, the entire village is calling him every name under the sun in their heads before they collapse. The scientist is also hard to get a mental read on - his thought process is so fast, and running so many different tangents, it's difficult to keep track.

Still, this whole setup is impressive. Enough that Gen is willing to set aside any pretence and let Senku know his friends are fine. While his face is impassive, he’s silently thanking the odds that he’d read Tsukasa right. He’d definitely been worried.

‘ _Now, how do I get you to play along with me?’_ Senku thinks, a smirk on his face. _‘A shallow guy like you, will definitely swap when you get a look at electric_ _i_ _ty again.’_

Only years of hiding his reactions to stray thoughts keeps the smile on his face. Electricity? Senku must be thinking long term, hoping to lure him with future inventions.

Except no. Senku’s making a generator. Now.

He doesn’t even try to hide his disbelief this time. But Senku doesn’t seem to care, his mind running a thousand miles an hour again. Architecture of scaffolding, the need to make copper wire, and running calculations on whether they have enough left to make the discs required.

All things considered, Gen’s almost grateful when the lightning shows up freaks out the scientist. He was starting to think he was inhuman.

* * *

That night, he puts a hand on the new generator, and tries to process everything he’d just witnessed. Senku...he’s everything Gen had thought and more. His mind runs on a different level to anyone Gen has ever met. Not even his father, with his analytical thought process came close. He almost has a headache trying to keep up with him.

There’s no doubt though, Senku is the right side to follow. With what he’s been able to do in such a short time, he’ll achieve his goal if given the time to do so.

Although, where does that leave Gen? While Tsukasa terrifies him, this time away has made Gen realise a simple truth – for him personally, Tsukasa is the only option.

It’s cruel, and selfish, but if Tsukasa is only going to revive a handful of people, and not all society, then it doesn’t matter how strong Gen’s power becomes. He’ll never be around enough people for it to drive him crazy, and there will always been enough land for him to escape if necessary.

Senku on the other, will be able to bring back the majority of society, but he will need time. He’ll probably succeed just as Gen’s abilities explode, resulting in his inevitable doom.

So that’s his choice. Save everyone and bring back the world he does, admittedly miss, knowing he won’t be able to enjoy it, or condemn the past, and live a long, full life in this stone world? It’s not a simple decision.

Unfortunately, not everyone understands that he needs time, and he’s struck by the sheer wall of hate that starts coming close.

‘ _Good, he’s alone. I’ll take him out before he even notices.’_

Gen stills, eyes snapping towards the forest. His mouth opens, getting ready to call out, trying to diffuse whoever it is.

He doesn’t have time, as a wall of a man lunges from the trees.

‘ _Damn you sorcerer. Enjoy the free trip to hell!’_

“Wait!-”

* * *

He’s very grateful nobody knows of his ability. It’s very embarrassing for someone who can literally read minds to be caught off guard. But he’d been so focused on the conversation in the hut, more worried about Kohaku’s contemplations of killing him and Senku’s pondering on when Gen was going to admit an alliance, that a random villager hadn’t seemed important.

It’s a mistake that has him nursing wounds, surrounded by rocks, and listening to the sad tale of a sick girl and a desperate sister. He has sympathy for both of them, even if there’s nothing he can do about it.

That night, when Chrome is passed out in the corner, Senku starts organising some of the pots, but his mind is on another topic entirely. Gen himself.

‘ _Dammit, I don’t know if you’re going to be healed enough to make it back now,’_ he thinks _. ‘I’m still not even certain you’re ready to swap sides.’_

Gen’s lips twitch. Senku’s a realist, good to know.

‘ _You have to agree,’_ he continues musing. _‘I promised Taiju and Yuzuriha I’d be okay. And now I’ve brought the village into it. If you stay with Tsukasa, this whole village is doomed.’_

He’s right. Gen’s well aware of it. But if he agrees, his fate is sealed.

‘ _I saw your face when you saw the electricity. I know you want to be on our side, so just tell me what you need to admit it. What can I do to help the shallow Asagiri Gen save face?’_

He grits his teeth, and feels his own resolve weakening.

Who is he kidding? He’s used to having the whole world in his head. When the world turned to stone he heard so many cries and screams. Can he really live with himself if he leaves them where they lie?

Asagiri Gen is many things. And apparently a survivor isn’t one of them.

He chokes out Senku’s name, and scrambles for something Senku can invent. Something that will fit the Asagiri Gen he’s met. A carbonated drink is the first thing to pop into his mind.

‘ _Carbonated water, cilantro, lime and honey caramel,_ ’ Senku thinks, relief clear as day. _‘That’s ten billion percent easy to put together.’_

“Sure,” is what he really says. “Nobody else can.”

Gen smiles, and closes his eyes.

He’s got a painful trip back tomorrow morning.

* * *

The good news is, Tsukasa believes him. There’s not an ounce of doubt that the story Gen has offered is true.

The bad news, is that Tsukasa is even more paranoid that Gen had anticipated. He’s going after the village, just in case Senku is still out there. It would be admirable if it wasn’t so damn frustrating.

The even worse news, is that the day after Gen returned, Tsukasa depetrified a man called Hyouga. Apparently a friend, and one of the few people who can go up against Tsukasa in a fair fight.

He’s also a man who has perfected lying to a T. Gen has to suppress a shudder when he realises the spear-user is already coming up with plans to take out Tsukasa and assume control of his kingdom. Hyouga is willing to work with Tsukasa so long as he carries out his current plan, but doesn’t believe for a second he’ll be able to maintain it. Tsukasa is too soft, and Hyouga will be ready for him. He’s already mulling over his future ally options, wondering if he can hunt down a woman named Homura, and Gen decides he needs to get out quick.

He can, at least, convince Tsukasa that he should go on ahead of the invasion. Get the village on edge to make invading easier, and he moves as fast as he possibly can through the forest to get back to Senku and the others in time.

He’s not even at the village before he starts hearing the cries of anguish. There’s an outpouring of sympathy, with a hint of agony, and a rather horrifyingly smug satisfaction curling around the crowd on the far side of the village. It doesn’t take long to pick out the outliers – poor little Chrome, beaten and bloody, but hoisting up a mangled watermelon, and his mind running as fast as it can, trying to remember a conversation held with Senku through his concussion. Magma is wary of the ‘sorcery,’ but the sheer arrogance is still quite firm.

Considering Gen is still technically nursing a few bruises from Magma’s little attack, this one is on the house. He wants this brute to _fear_.

Senku is happy to oblige, and that mathematical sprint was almost a thing of beauty, but with answer in hand, Gen goes to work. Turning the unstoppable Magma into a trembling post – and when he bursts into flames, he takes satisfaction in feeling the entire village cheer for Chrome. Magma might have been a powerful and respected force, but this whole town is a sucker for a love story, and Gen is happy to play the trickster in this fairytale.

* * *

He holds off on telling Senku about the upcoming attack – when the group reappear, their minds are frantic, and it’s clear the drug must come first, or they won’t be able to do anything. So he holds back – quite literally in one case, when Kaseki grabs him by the sleeve and refuses to let him leave the contraption. Gen has no idea what the spinning bamboo is doing, and neither does Kaseki, but the old man isn’t letting him leave. The craftsman is lonely, and Gen stills, the man’s laughing comments dim in the wake of the mental.

‘ _He looks lonely_ ,’ Kaseki thinks. ‘ _Better make him know he’s welcome, even if he’s still an outside. Least I can do after his help with Chrome.’_

Gen flushes red as he sits down, looking as put out as he can.

It’s embarrassing, for someone to read him so easily. The elderly have more experience, but still, he clearly needs to stay on top of his emotions, if this stranger can read him so well.

* * *

Scratch that, he _definitely_ needs to be putting in more effort, because he didn’t see this bottle of cola coming. At all. What kind of telepath is he?

Though when the familiar, sweet taste pours down his throat, he finds it hard to care.

* * *

Ruri’s illness takes longer to recover than Gen expected. He’s barely explained that Tsukasa is sending men before Ginro is running into the village, screaming about an attack.

The only consolation, is that Senku has known since his arrival that this was the most likely reason for Gen’s return. They still have to bluff their way out of a surprise assault, but Gen knows how to work under pressure. Convincing the brutes to wait for a storm is also child’s play.

Hyoga is not elated at staying, and is already writing off the other men in his group. Gen at least, seems to be remaining in the camp of ‘useful enough to keep around.’ Unfortunately, to maintain that opinion, he does have to give a detailed analysis of the village setup. He’s not worried about it, until Hyoga dismisses him, and the deadly teen starts planning his strategy.

‘ _The meatheads will most likely fail to take the front,’_ he muses, as Gen walks away. _‘But that’s fine. With me in the back, it’ll be enough force to make a proper diversion.’_

Just out of sight, Gen stills.

Diversion?

‘ _If we provide a substantial enough assault on the front, Homura will do her part and attack from the sea. She’s already mastered the fire preparations. Even in the worse case scenario, the village will suffer losses.’_

Gen sucks in a harsh breath, and inches away, eyes flitting through the trees, looking for a figure. So, Hyoga had found his precious Homura. And now, there’s another threat in the forest. Getting ready to attack the village while Hyoga takes it from the front.

And Gen can’t do anything to warn them.

* * *

It takes a few hours to locate Homura. She’s hiding out some distance from the group, but he’s able to get close enough to hear her thoughts while pretending to stock up on flowers. She’s going to swim to the harbour of the village, and use fire to cut down the bridges and take out most of the houses. As long as she attacks before the rain of the storm hits, the village will have no choice but to flee their current fortress for a less well guarded spot.

He has left a trail of nightshade for Senku to follow, should he need to contact him, but he’s never too far away from the group, and the chance for a conversation will be limited at best. He briefly wonders if he can find the tools to write it down, but even if he sacrificed a chunk of clothing, he has nothing to write with.

That evening, he’s standing on the edge of the group, listening to the modern-day cavemen talk about what they’re going to do once they take the village (thankfully, their mental conversations are practically running over each other, making it essentially white noise he can ignore), when he picks up a much softer, determined mind heading towards him.

It’s Suika. Nobody else is so determined to be useful.

She’s so delighted to have found him – to have spotted the trail he left. Her hand flicks something small towards him, and he shifts slightly to make sure he can catch it without anyone noticing. It’s a small knife – Suika doesn’t know why he needs it, but Gen has a pretty good idea.

She turns to leave, only to stop when Gen throws up a hand, shifting again so his back is almost completely turned from the group.

Dammit, he can’t talk at this distance, and they will notice if he wanders off. He has nothing to give her in return – how can he explain this to Senku without damaging his cover?

An idea comes to him. It’s a long shot, but Senku has proven to be good at hitting his targets.

With a mother traumatised by conversations in her radius, it was not uncommon for the Asagiri’s to talk in sign language. It required more concentration than talking, and allowed your brain to focus on the hands than noise – which sometimes nulled their telepathy. He has no way of knowing if Senku has learned Japanese Sign Language, or if Suika can accurately convey it, but he has to try.

He keeps it simple, so the girl won’t have too much trouble replicating it. The first word is ‘enemy.’ He makes the word slowly, lifting it up so Suika gets a good look – he grins when he spots her replicating the gesture.

‘ _I think he wants me to copy him?’_ Suika thinks to herself. Smart girl.

The next sign is ‘behind,’ followed by ‘village,’ and finally, ‘fire.’ It’s brutally simplistic, but anything more complicated and Suika might struggle to remember it. He sighs as the girl nods and vanishes into the forest.

‘ _I better show this to Senku, super quick!’_ is her last coherent thought before running out of range. Gen can only hopes he understands.

* * *

Senku would flat out hate his choice of words, but _God bless_ that ridiculous scientist. Not only had he managed to stop the direct assault cold by whipping out a set of katanas (katanas! Gen was inwardly fanboying so hard right now), when Gen’s deceit became clear, Hyoga revealed his trump card. That this was all a diversion.

Gen glances at Senku, who grins, and lifts up a hand, shifting it into a shape.

‘safe.’

The Mentalist chuckles, and cocks his head at Hyoga.

“Oh, you mean Homura’s attempt to swim round the back of the village and set it alight?” he asks, grin going wider when the older teen visibly flinches, his eyes opening somewhat to stare at Gen. “I’m afraid that’s not going _quite_ to plan.”

There’s a major commotion from the back of the village, and Gen looks behind to see a figure in pink jumping through the village, fleeing from angry residents. It appears as if the former village chief and the silver haired man he saw running the bout, as well as a scarred, bald teen are running the main charge. Her fire supplies are still on her back – the woman unable to get them out in time to do anything.

It would be better if they’d been able to catch her, but he’s finally able to put a name to a face. This Homura had been aiming for the Olympics before petrification – nobody in the village has a hope of catching someone who can move like that.

“Homura!” Hyoga yells, clearly agited. “Fall back!”

The gymnast stops for a brief moment, then changes direction, leaping towards them. Despite multiple katana’s pointed in her direction, she manages to use the swing of the suspension bridge to somersault over them – at one point even using Magma’s head as a landing post. She lands by Hyoga’s side, looking frustrated.

“Apologies,” she says. “They were were already waiting for me when I swam up.”

Hyoga doesn’t reply, giving her a long stare before turning towards the crowd in front of him. He only has eyes for Gen.

“How did you know?” Hyoga asks. At Gen’s side, Senku frowns. “Homura wasn’t even depetrified before you left for the village. And I made a point not to mention it. She was our trump card.”

‘ _Huh, that’s interesting,_ ’ Senku thinks, and Gen quickly pastes on the joker’s smile.

“Oh, my dear Hyoga-chan,” he coos. “I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I couldn’t read between the lines, would I? You’d be amazed at what you can learn from what’s **not** said.”

Hyoga is still staring at him, but he draws himself back, giving the signal to move away.

‘ _That wasn’t just impressive, that was almost supernatural,’_ Hyoga thinks. ‘ _Quite proper of a mentalist, Tsukasa’s lost a powerful piece here.’_

‘ _Did he see me in the forest?’_ Homura is thinking frantically. ‘ _He must have – that time with the flowers. I can’t believe I messed up so badly in front of Hyoga.’_

Gen keeps up the grin until the group have faded into the forest, and he can no longer hear them in any capacity. Hyoga’s got the right idea, but he thinks he’ll take Homura’s should Senku press Gen for details.

Unfortunately, he also heard Hyoga musing about leaving Homura behind – the gymnast also contemplating asking Hyoga for the task in order to make up for her percieved mistake.

Hopefully, that won’t become too big an issue.

“I have to admit, if what he said is true, that was impressive,” Senku says, when the danger is passed and the village has started celebrating. “So how did you know?”

Gen laughs and smiles.

“Oh, I stumbled across Homura hiding in the forest while collecting nightshade,” he says. “When I spotted her, I knew Hyoga must have another trick in play.”

Both Kohaku and Chrome, also listening in, laugh and pat him on the back.

“Really, that’s so baaad.”

“Huh, you might be a bit of rat, but at least you’re a rat on our side,” Kohaku compliments.

‘ _Liar.’_

Senku doesn’t say anything, but Gen’s smile gets strained at the thought aimed at him. He tries to ignore it, but when Kohaku and Chrome go to help the Village clear up from Homura’s escape, Senku pins him with a curious stare.

‘So, you saw Homura in the forest, huh?” he says. Gen nods. “But when you gave the message to Suika, you specifically said ‘fire.’ Strange choice if you didn’t know _how_ she was going to attack.”

“Well, it was a rational assumption,” Gen bluffs.

“Rational? Fire? During a storm?” Senku replies. “They have access to the nitric acid, it could have been bombs, or just someone coming to kidnap Ruri. Using ‘danger’ would have been ten billion percent easier.”

Senku’s eyes narrow.

“Unless you _knew_ it was going to be fire.”

Gen stares back, trying to keep a look of confusion on his face. Both of them are refusing to move.

‘ _Dammit, am I really just overthinking this?’_

At that thought, Gen lets himself relax.

Always give them reason to doubt.

“Honestly, Senku, you’re giving me too much credit,” he says, smooth as silk. “I would have known if Tsukasa allowed for explosives to be made, and Homura would hardly be the right choice for a hostage situation. The one thing everyone in the Kingdom of Might knows how to do is set a fire. It just made sense to me.”

He claps his hands a few times, and starts walking into the village.

“Now, how about you show me your newly aquired village, Chief Senku-chan?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned - there's a semi-big spoiler for the start of the most recent arc that just finished in this. Major kudos to Rika on Discord for helping me solve a serious issue I was having!

Cellphones.

Gen’s starting to think this is what going crazy feels like. Cellphones. In the stone age.

Sure, they have electricity, and glass, and modern-day antibiotics, but those had been around a while. A phone is…

Well, Gen isn’t sure what it is. But according to Senku, it’s fully possible. Difficult, but possible. Their biggest problem is manpower, since winter is literally right around the corner – but Chrome and Kaseki come through for them with their newest invention.

It’s actually a rather beautiful moment. Gen remembers with perfect clarity Chrome’s mind going through the motions, stumbling across an idea that he’d never had, that he’d never even seen before. While Gen recognised the concept he was describing to himself immediately, the sheer enthusiasm and inspiration involved in the teen’s plans have the Mentalist in a great mood all day. It’s quite a challenge to keep quiet about it – to let Chrome and Kaseki have their surprise.

When they do reveal it, Gen smiles at how excited Senku gets, at his protege and craftsman coming up with a device like this all on their own. But he’s genuinely astonished when Senku takes that idea and jumps ahead a few centuries, creating hydroelectricity, batteries and fully automated steam power.

Apparently, he’s a little too surprised, because both Chrome and Kaseki get annoyed that he seemed so calm about their invention. Not to his face, or even out loud, but enough that he lies and says that he’d been so curious about what got Kaseki so charged up, he came and spied on them midway through construction, so had already known. They yell at him for not keeping it a surprise, but at least some of the agitation leaves their shoulders.

And he tries not to worry too much when he hears Senku wondering just when Gen could have done that, considering he hasn’t left his side in days...

* * *

With electricity and fire blowing all automated, the village is in utter celebration. There’s plenty of hands for preparing for winter, especially with Senku’s new storing possibilities, and enough people to help putting the phones together. As such, they’ve become quite fascinated with anything from the ‘modern before,’ especially if it’s something they’ve never even considered.

Which is how Gen finds himself walking in front of an audience on a rare afternoon off, preparing to bring back his brand of entertainment – a magic show.

Granted, it’ll be bare-bones at best. Gen doesn’t even have a deck of cards right now, but Ishigami villagers are still blown away by static and the concepts of indoor stoves. He doesn’t exactly have to pull out his big guns just yet.

(Also, Senku will probably be mad at him if he accidentally convinces any of the villagers into thinking magic is real, so he has to stick with the basics).

He gets a surprisingly large crowd considering they don’t have a lot of time off, and to his surprise, even Senku shows up, leaning against one of the huts on the edge of the space Gen has taken over.

“Don’t look so shocked Mentalist,” he laughs, when Gen notices his arrival. “Everyone in the village has been curious about exactly what it is you do. And I want to make sure you don’t confuse anyone too badly.”

“For shame Senku-chan,” Gen whines. “Magic is meant to amaze. If a crowd leaves confused rather than happy, I haven’t done my job at all.”

Senku huffs, that weird little sound that in anyone else, might be a giggle, and Gen gets to work, welcoming the crowd to the first magic show in 3700 years.

He dearly wishes he had a mirror with a box. The vanishing trick would go down so well with this crowd, but he doesn’t, so has to settle for flowers, small handmade scarves and the odd piece of jewellery. It helps that Ishigami Village is full of desperate volunteers for his act, and they’re never looking for the trick – a magicians dream audience.

So he lets himself fall back into his element. He makes a bracelet disappear, then reappear on another volunteer. He makes a chain of handkerchiefs appear out of a volunteers ear, uses his jacket to make a pot ‘vanish,’ and gets quite a bit of applause when he slips out of knots tied by Kokuyo himself in less than 10 seconds.

Then, he enters the mentalist part of the act. The tricks with numbers go down really well, since outside of Chrome, most people in the village only have a rudimentary grasp, and so long as Gen keeps the numbers small, a quick bit of adding and subtracting makes it child’s play to ‘read the number’ in the villager's mind. In a rare feat for a magician, he even explains to the crowd exactly how he figured it out – how the math gave him the answer, while it looked as if it was a guess.

(That definitely gets Senku’s approval. Anything that makes the villagers interested in something related to science can only be a good idea).

Finally, for his last trick, he decides on another guessing game. He managed to grab several used leathers that Kaseki and Senku have used for blueprints, and cut them up. Each one has a unique design on it, and from the back, it’s impossible to tell which one is which. The volunteer will select one, and after ‘reading his mind,’ Gen will replicate the pattern in the ground next to him. There are a few ways to pull off this trick, but he’ll admit to being lazy and cheating with his telepathy this time around. He just doesn’t have the time to set up anything else.

Now, who does he pick as his target? He’s brought up Suika because children are always delighted by his tricks, and Kinro because his steadfast following of rules gives his tricks extra validation. All three of the villages beautiful sisters were used with the scarves and flowers, and Ruri had come up for the last one. It’s probably best he goes for someone no-nonsense – a simple mind to read will help him out.

Magma immediately comes to mind, but the man is at the back, looking angry and frustrated. Gen highly doubts he’ll play along, and discards him offhand. Some of the older men are looking curious…

His eyes light up as he comes across a teen to the side, a large cross scar on his bald head. While his face is rather blank, the eyes are gleaming with excitement. He’s trying to pretend he doesn’t want to be picked, but there’s no denying that anticipation in his heart.

With a grin, Gen throws out an arm, pointing an elegant finger at his target.

“You there, what’s your name?”

The teen flinches back in shock, before blushing and looking down in embarrassment.

‘ _Soyuz, but I can’t tell you tha-’_

“Ah yes! Soyuz!” Gen declares. “Step right up!”

To his surprise, Soyuz jerks back in horror, jaw dropping as he snaps his head up, eyes almost bugging out of their sockets.

‘ _Wait, how did he know that!’_

Gen frowns and continues to gesture, only to freeze as he hears the rest of the villagers start to murmur to each other.

“Wait, his name is Soyuz?”

“I didn’t think he had a name?”

“Did you know that?”

“No, I don’t think anyone did.”

Gen starts to go paler than Soyuz himself, as the entire village reveals their shock. To the side, Senku is looking at each and every one of them, his brows furrowing in confusion, before looking over at Gen.

He swallows, throat now unnaturally dry, and tries to keep the show running. Soyuz suddenly looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but he steps onto the stage and follows Gen’s instructions to the letter. It’s probably a good thing Gen is cheating – his mind is too manic to actually follow a trick right now.

As expected, the finale gets a thundering applause, but he can’t help but stay tense as he hears everyone thoughts, all still focused on Soyuz.

How could he have known?

How could he tell?

Maybe he really can mind read and the trick is pretending he can’t?

The worst part is when the crowd has cleared and Gen’s heart has stopped pounding, Senku is right there, looking at Gen like he wants to dissect him where he stands. His brain is also running a thousand miles per hour, analysing name statistics, social constructs, a handful of known mentalist tricks and throwing theory after theory into his head.

“Ah, Senku-chan,” Gen says, praying he doesn’t look as panicked as he feels. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“I’ll admit it, it was impressive,” Senku says, face smiling even as his mind screams in frustration. “Gotta ask though, when did you learn Soyuz’s name? That could be ten billion perfect important, considering the naming conventions in this village.”

“Really?” Gen squeaks. “I must have heard it in passing. It never occurred to me it would be of any interest. I don’t exactly know my rocks, so I just thought it was some rare mineral. I wouldn’t know any better.”

Or at least, he wouldn’t know until now. Senku’s brain has been offering up schematics or a metallic pod and space travel ever since Soyuz came on stage. Gen is now probably the only other person in the village who can tell you _precisely_ what ‘Soyuz’ means, and it’s information he dearly wishes he’d had several minutes ago. Oh, why had he never pried Senku harder regarding space travel?

Honestly, psychic powers. Not worth the mental headache. Not one bit.

‘ _That’s complete bull.’_

“Really?” is what Senku actually says. “That seems pretty unlikely.”

Gen doesn’t let his smile slip.

“What can I say, I know how to listen,” he says. “Speaking of, I do believe I hear Kaseki calling. Toodleloo!”

“Oi, Mentalist, wait-”

Gen doesn’t stop, darting off and waving towards the old man, who looks a little confused but still happy at Gen’s appearance. He’s long since realised Kaseki has a soft spot for anyone ‘lost,’ and Gen apparently qualifies. Part of him feels bad for using him like this, but he also knows Kaseki won't hold it against him.

“Oh, Gen, quite the show,” Kaseki offers, automatically handing Gen the log in his hand, and smirking as the mentalist squawks, sagging under the weight, before lugging up his own. “Help me get these to the harbour, will you?’

‘ _Running from Senku, huh? Not like you. But if you need the excuse, I’ll gladly give you the work._

“Ah, mercy Kaseki,” Gen whines. “Such a slave driver you are.”

‘ _Thanks, old man.’_

* * *

“Man, that was seriously bad!” Chrome blusters at Senku’s side, face flushed from excitement as they walk back towards the observatory. “I mean, I’ve seen Gen pull off some impressive stuff, but that was amazing!”

“I’ve got to admit, I see why Gen says he was popular,” Kohaku admits, flanking Senku’s other side. “He can really work a crowd, and I want to know how he did that storage trick.”

“It’s a lot less impressive if you know the mechanics,” Senku mutters, though his mind is clearly elsewhere. Something the two quickly pick up on.

“Something wrong, Senku?”

He frowns, stopping in place, the two of them hesitating to stare at him.

“Soyuz,” he says. “Be honest, did no one know his name?”

Chrome and Kohaku glance at each other.

“Not as far as I know,” Chrome admits.

“I’ve trained with him a bunch of times growing up, and we just called him ‘no-name’ or ‘hey, you,’” Kohaku agrees. “His parents died when he was pretty young too, I just figured he...forgot it?”

Senku sighs. “Yeah, Kokuyo said the same thing. He seemed upset that there was something so obvious about a villager he didn’t know.”

“Is that a problem?” Kohaku asks, and Senku looks at them both, mulling something over.

“I can’t figure it out,” he explains. “The tricks, I know. Or I can at least theorise how he pulled them off. The last trick was a little advanced for the level of tech he has access to, but it’s not impossible. But that name...”

He scowls and rubs the back of his neck.

“Gen couldn’t have known that. There was a zero percent chance,” he explains. “I keep going over and over the data, and it doesn’t make sense. He _couldn’t_ know that name.”

“Wait, could he really be psychic?” Chrome asks, eyes wide. Senku immediately scoffs.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Psychic powers are a thing of fiction.”

“Well then, he must have figured it out somehow,” Kohaku says. “Aren’t you always saying science can explain everything? Why don’t you just ask him?”

“I tried that, but it’s Gen,” Senku explains. “Flowery, feathery fluff.”

Kohaku rolls her eyes.

“Then work him until he’s too exhausted to put up the front and then question him,” she says. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Senku doesn’t hide the grin, but when he returns to the lab, it fades, the suspicions still running through his mind.

* * *

That night, Senku can’t sleep, and eventually, pushes Chrome to the side and clambers onto the roof, staring up at the stars as if they can provide him with an answer to the question that will not leave his head.

Senku is utterly loathed to admit it, but Gen _doesn’t make sense_.

The older teen is a mentalist. A sham magician that gets by on psychological study, sleight of hand and acting ability. And while those skills are far more useful than Senku would have originally thought when he first broke out of the stone, it doesn’t change the fact that Gen is _too good_ at them.

He knows how most basic tricks are performed, and he can theorise enough about the more complicated ones to explain them. But many of the more advanced techniques involving mind-reading and mentalism require technology. Online research, listening devices, camera’s, communications technology. Gen doesn’t have access to any of this, but it doesn’t appear to have slowed him down _at all_. And even if he was a prodigy, a 19-year-old’s understanding of psychology, and a mentalist’s talent for manipulation, only go so far.

To start, Homura. While he made a valid argument, something about Hyoga and Homura’s reactions didn’t allow Gen’s story to sit right with Senku. The more he thinks about it, the worse it gets. No matter how many angles he looks at it, he just can’t see how Gen could have found Homura, figured out her plot, and had enough time to put the message together for Suika in time. It’s not impossible, but definitely suspect.

Then, there was Chrome and Kaseki’s water wheel. Now, while Senku was more focused on fully utilising the new invention, he had noticed Gen’s face. While the other’s were shocked and in awe, he’d just looked smug. Like he’d known all about it beforehand. By this point, Gen’s more or less the straight man when it comes to new inventions, and his lack of astonishment seemed weird.

Granted, he had told Chrome that he’d slipped out and spied on the two...but Gen had barely left Senku’s side during those 3 days. He would have noticed if he’d been gone long enough to get to the river and back, right?

Finally, there was his magic show. Oh sure, most of his act was easy enough to follow, and impressive for his lack of equipment, but that final trick with Soyuz? It shouldn’t have been possible without access to modern equipment.

Senku had grabbed the villager after the fact for a thorough grilling, and while he’d known there was another island out there, learning that there’s still civilisation is something of a new discovery. He’s promised to keep that revelation to himself at Soyuz’s request for now, but it adds another level to the mystery that is Gen. Because Soyuz flat out insists he never told anyone – not even his adoptive parents – his name.

This is a village that up until several months ago, strongly believed in gods and superstition, and was deeply against outsiders. It is ten billion percent impossible that Soyuz would have offered his name to anyone out of fear of exile, and so he could not have been overheard or betrayed. He cannot read or write, so he wouldn’t have written it down somewhere to be discovered, and as it is clearly not a rock, Gen could never have guessed it with accuracy. So how the hell did he do it?

The craziest part is, while Gen did his best to hide it, he was clearly astonished to learn that Soyuz’s name wasn’t common knowledge. As if he learned it from a source that gave him no reason to be suspect.

Senku is a scientist. He doesn’t believe in superstition, just cold hard facts. But the facts are starting to paint a very confusing picture. Gen is either the greatest magician _in history_ , or he’s getting information from a source outside of normal knowledge. He also knows that scientists don’t know everything – even the most established rules can be upended with the arrival of new knowledge that reframes what was previously understood.

He remembers the most famous of Clarke’s 3 laws. ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ A law of fiction, but one that often finds it’s way into the scientific process. There’s a reason Chrome referred to himself as a Sorcerer before Senku arrived after all.

And while Senku does not believe in magic, and has always laughed at the concept of parapsychology, he can’t deny that it’s a far more viable hypothesis _now_ , than it would have been in the old world. There were many who put genuine work into understanding it – there are, were, several papers by distinguished men of their fields who acknowledged that while most ‘psychics’ were hokum, there were always a handful of people who did appear to have something additional helping them.

The more he thinks about it, the more plausible it sounds. While the idea wouldn’t even cross his mind in the modern-day, the lack of technology makes it harder to discount. Gen has secrets – he’s never pretended otherwise. The older teen always seems to know what’s going on before anyone else, and for a man who loves attention, Senku has noticed he remains on the sidelines at a distance whenever he has the option. The entertainer looks uncomfortable in a crowd unless he’s orchestrating something. He had thought it was sensitive hearing, but perhaps it’s something more.

But how the hell does he prove it? Does he even _have_ to prove it? Gen certainly isn’t offering up details willingly.

No. He has to know, one way or another. A scientist always validates. With Tsukasa breathing down their necks and with a dozen things that could delay their phone, Senku needs every advantage he can get.

He huffs, and starts mentally preparing supplies in his head, putting together an experiment. Part of him still can’t believe he’s doing this. The science club would be on the floor in hysterics if they ever learned what the great Ishigami Senku was trying to prove.

But hey, the worst thing that could happen, is that he’s wrong, and given the testing process, absolutely nobody will know.

* * *

It’s been a few days since the magic show, and most of the village is starting to pick up on the fact that Gen is giving Senku a wide berth. In his defence, it’s not entirely intentional – Gen’s just not sure he’s ready to handle the conversation – and the inevitable brain activity – that will come with meeting with the scientist. However, given that he’s normally glued to Senku’s side, his avoidance is noticeable.

Kaseki, god bless his cranky old heart, has been very accommodating, making Gen his go-to when he needs a gopher or extra pair of hands. It does mean Gen’s been worked to the bone, but at least he’s had a valid excuse.

However, given that Chrome is running up to him as he Kaseki finishes up his welding, he has a sinking suspicion his time is now up.

“Hi Gen, Senku has a task for you,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Can you meet him in my hut?”

For a second, he wonders if he should try and make excuses. But both Kaseki has finished with his work, and while he’ll keep Gen busy, he won't keep him away from actual work.

“Of course Chrome,” he says. “Let’s find out what terrible abour-lay our esteemed leader has in store for me.”

* * *

When he makes it up the ladder, Senku is sitting on the ground, and has several of the rather depleted pots of stones completely empty, with a set of new rocks to the side. He looks up with a smirk when Gen walks in.

“You wanted to see me, Senku-chan?” Gen chimes up. Senku leans back on his hands and appraises him. Gen has just a moment to ponder what Senku sees before his head gives him an honest answer. 

‘ _You’re psychic_ ,’ Senku thinks.

Thankfully, Gen is a performer, so his face doesn’t even flinch, even as Senku huffs a laugh and drawls.

“You’ve been keeping secrets, mentalist.”

How? Senku...there was no way a rational man would him would make that leap! Senku should have suspected **spy** before that. What’s going on?”

“Really?” Gen says. “That shouldn’t be surprising Senku-chan, it is part of my charm.”

Senku’s eyes narrow.

‘ _I’m giving you this one out,’_ he thinks. _‘Admit it, and things will go a lot easier for you.’_

Gen, naturally, stays quiet, and Senku smiles.

“Got a project I need some help with,” he says. “The phones are using up more materials than expected, and we’re not even close to being done. I need to do a stock count on the supplies in here, and you’re up.”

Gen’s face falls in dismay.

“Really?” he whines. “Wouldn’t Chrome be a better choice?”

“Chrome is doing actual science,” Senku quips back, though he’s still grinning. “I thought you’d love an easy job. All you have to do is count. Simple enough.”

He stands up and gathers a set of leather pelts they’ve been using for plans, heading for an empty space near the door.

“I’ll even be over here, drawing up some plans if you want to talk.”

‘ _Bet you crack in an hour_ ,’ he thinks, and with his back to him, Gen frowns. Because really? Just because stock staking is unbearably dull, does not mean Gen can’t do it.

“Oh, that’s why you wanted me up here,” Gen laughs. “Our dear Senku-chan just wanted some company? You should have just said, leave it to me.”

Senku just pulls out a piece of charcoal and starts sketching.

‘ _Just start counting mentalist. This is going to be amusing.’_

Gen rolls his eyes and kneels by the closest basket. He has no idea what the rock is, but Senku has painted a ‘1’ on the front of the container, and there’s a piece of pelt with a bunch of numbers at the top, so he dubs it ‘onerock’ and starts tallying rocks in his head.

‘ _One, two, three, four-’_

He makes it to the mid-twenties before Senku’s white noise thoughts quickly shift from the lightbulb blueprints to something far more focused.

‘ _He’s got to be pretty high up now... twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven-’_

Gen doesn’t even realise what Senku has done until his own mental tally has started matching Senku’s in tandem – the count completely off. He mentally curses, and finds himself starting again, emptying the pot.

“Something wrong, Mentalist?”

Gen grits his teeth.

“No, I just got distracted,” he says, and starts again. It’s not the first time he’s had to focus on his work while someone else counts or studied in his radius, he can handle this.

But at the same time, he’s never been given such a detail oriented task while in the same room with someone actively trying to sabotage him.

This time, he starts scribbling a five score at the top, so he only has to count to five at a time.

‘ _Oh, that’s cute.’_

“Be careful with how much you scribble,” Senku warns. “We don’t have enough pelts to give you more than that one.”

Senku’s amusement is quickly made clear – there isn’t enough space on the pelt to keep scoring like this – he’ll run out of pelt before he gets close to half done…perhaps he can scribble on the floor?

But then, once he finishes counting them all, he realises he has yet another problem. There are dozens of scores, and now he has to count _them_.

And Senku is now counting backwards, going through low numbers and then randomly adding a double-digit number now and then. Gen has to resort to putting a number above each one so he doesn’t have to count.

Then he gets to the fourth pot-

“Senku-chan...”

“Yeah, Mentalist?”

Gen turns, eyes burning as the scientist busies himself with sketching.

“These are not unique,” he says, gesturing to the pot, filled to the brim with basic pebbles. “These are not part of Chrome’s collection.”

‘ _Course not. I just had Suika and the kids gather up the smallest rocks they could find in the village,’_ Senku snickers in his head.

“Of course they are,” Senku says. “Last I checked, you’re not a geologist. Those rocks have plenty of uses.”

‘ _Like pissing off not-so-sham magicians,_ ’ he thinks, and Gen resists the urge to deck him before kneeling by the pot.

There has to be **thousands** in here. There’s no way he can keep up his primary school counting methods without running out of writing material. He glances over at the already filthy pelt and depleted charcoal, and then looks back at Senku with a shaky grin.

“Well, I’d better go and get some more char-”

“You’re not getting any more,” Senku warns, finishing whatever he’d been sketching. “We don’t have the supplies to waste. You’ll just have to do it in your head from now on.”

He looks up and gives him another grin.

“You’ve got a high school education, and you’re a mentalist. I’m sure you can count these without needing to write it down. Unless something is distracting you?”

Gen pales and glances back at the pot. At the dozens and dozens of rocks, and then back at Senku.

Senku, who counted for thousands of years without missing a step.

Gen drops to his knees. No more. Mercy.

“All right...” he mutters, Senku immediately perks up.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asks, far too chipper, and digs a finger in his ear. “I didn’t quite hear that.”

“I said, all right!” Gen snaps, snapping his head up and glaring over at Senku. “You win. Now, if you want me to do this job, stop counting and let me finish! And admit these are all basic, worthless chunks you had Suika and her posse collect!”

Senku’s face lights up.

‘ _Holy crap._ ’

Gen closes his eyes with a wince.

“How...what, this – I’m getting excited,” Senku splutters. “I mean...seriously? You’re genuinely psychic?”

Gen opens his mouth to automatically deny it – and stops. The very fact that Senku performed this little test means he’d already considered it a possibility. Which is incredible considering how Senku reacts to the world in general.

It’s an act that, 3700 years ago, would have had made Gen a laughingstock at best, or tossed in an asylum at worst. But there is no one to stop him, when he looks at Senku, and gives him a genuine smile.

“Well played, Ishigami Senku,” he admits. “You do love getting one over on me, don’t you?”

Senku’s eyes are practically burning alight.

‘ _One final test. What number I am saying? I’ll go with fifty digits into pii’_ Senku thinks directly at him. And then goes off on a ridiculous random spiel of numbers. Gen covers his face with his hand, but matches Senku in tandem, only stopping when Senku bursts into overjoyed laughter. He immediately scrambles over, eyes still gleaming.

“I can barely believe it,” he says. “But even I can’t deny evidence staring me in the face. Is it just mind-reading, or is there more to it?”

Gen shakes his head. “No, it’s telepathy only, thankfully. But really, it’s not something you should worry about.”

Senku gives a greedy laugh. “Really? I’m just getting _started_. You can’t just throw something like that at me and expect me to drop it. Tell me everything. What’s your range? Is it just surface thoughts or can you hear inner workings? How many people can you understand at once? I’m guessing it’s constant, or can you turn it off?”

Gen blanches and steps back from the now enthusiastically looming scientist. “This was not exactly a studied art Senku! Everything I know I learned from my family. And the primary rule was ‘don’t tell anyone.’ I didn’t really have the option to experiment.”

Senku’s eyes light up yet again.

“Well, I think it’s ten billion percent time to change that,” he says. “Let’s go.”

“Shouldn’t I finish this-”

‘ _Oh yeah, probably should mention I did the whole stock take thing this morning.’_

“...I hate you sometimes, Senku.”

* * *

Senku’s questions are relentless. He wants to know how much Gen can hear, if there’s a difference in volume depending on the thought, does emotion play a part, and how long could he do it.

Nearly an hour later, Senku leans back and cracks his neck.

“We don’t have the supplies or enough of a need, but damn, I ten billion percent want to get my hands on a CAT scan,” he says. “There has to be an explanation in your head for how it works.”

“If there is, my father never found it,” Gen tells him. His father had put both his mother and son through every medical test he could pull strings for – there had been a literal binder of medical results with Gen’s name on it in his study. Senku makes a discontented noise.

“I refuse to believe there’s no difference in how your brain works compared to mine,” he insists. “Otherwise it would be a learn-able skill, not a genetic one.”

Gen can’t help but grin. His father had said many a similar statement in the early years.

“What I don’t understand is why this is still so unheard of,” Senku continues. “If this has been in your family for generations, why isn’t there more recorded cases? Some kind of random genetic hiccup that happened at some point? And why did nobody ever come forward – I get why they’d stay quiet pre-1900’s, but Japan’s always been a spiritual country. It would have been treated seriously.

The grin on Gen’s face slips away. He’d so far managed to avoid talking about the catch to his powers.

“Because by the time serious study was involved in parapsychology, most of my family at least, were either or dead or insane,” he admits. “Even my father kept his research ‘subjects’ private for their medical health.”

Senku frowns, and Gen sighs.

“Telepathy might sound like a fascinating ability, but there are significant drawbacks. One of which is the fact that it gets stronger with age, and for many people, it’s too much. Especially when Japan went through a population boom.”

The scientist’s eyes narrow, and Gen continues.

“Imagine you’re having a conversation,” he says. “First, there’s just one person. Then, three more people join in. You can just about keep up. Then you start picking up the people not in the conversation, the background noise. Everyone around you, starts getting louder. Suddenly, you’re not in a small conversation, you’re in the middle of a sold-out stadium, and everyone has a microphone that feeds directly into your ear.”

Senku winces.

“Think about how many people live in major cities,” Gen tells him. “Just think how many people live in even a small village. And imagine hearing every single one of them in a several mile radius. Not pausing for breath, no concept of noise control, and no expectation of privacy. That never. Turns. off.

Senku gives a slow nod. “A constant scream on unintelligible noise that just gets louder, but no one else can hear. That you can’t ever fully escape. Not if you want to stay in any part of society.”

Gen smiles. The scientist has always been a rational man – he’s getting it.

“My mother killed herself when I was a child,” he explains, and Senku flinches, eyes wide in shock. “It’s a common fate for our line. Her power erupted around 25, and she made it to thirty before she couldn’t take it any more. My great grandmother and great uncle both committed suicide in asylums. My grandmother only lived as long as she did by shutting herself away. Unless you can hide from society at large, this ‘gift’ demands a short lifespan.

“You seem relatively sane, how’d you come out in one piece?” Senku asks, and Gen finds himself laughing. It’s a horrible, bitter sound.

“Oh dear Senku,” he says, once the sound weakens. “What possible reason do you have to think I’m sane? The truth is, I can function because I’m currently quite weak. We make it through childhood only hearing a few metres, puberty gives us something around hearing distance. Once you hit twenty onwards...”

He stops and looks away.

“That’s when it becomes intolerable,” he explains. “And it generally gets more powerful each generation.”

Senku is silent for a few moments, and his voice is low when he asks his next question.

‘ _You’re already nineteen.’_

“Gen, how old are you?”

“Nineteen, you’re right,” Gen replies. “At least, I think I am. Depending on how petrification works, I’m pretty sure I’m still a teen. Months in it now though.”

“It gets stronger at twenty?”

“Twenty onwards,” Gen corrects. “Usually between 23-25, though it’s been known to hit earlier. Sometimes even later.”

Senku is gritting his teeth.

“So, you’ve got a bomb in your head?’ he asks. “One that makes it impossible to live in modern society without serious ramifications?”

Gen nods, and a second later, Senku’s eyes widen the tiniest amount.

‘ _Tsukasa’s kingdom could have saved you,’_ he thinks _. ‘You can’t survive in the modern world. It would have been ten billion percent safer to stay with him, and his limited society. You’re giving up your best chance at a future.’_

“You think I’m not aware of that?” Gen says, cocking his head and giving Senku a mocking smile. It sharpens as Senku flushes red – apparently the full concept of ‘psychic’ hadn’t quite hit him.

“I assure you Senku, I knew full well what I was risking when I threw my lot in with you,” Gen explains. “Eventually, I’ll have to step back. Find somewhere isolated and vanish. At least with you at the helm I can take a few modern comforts. It’ll take years to get the whole world up and running anyway. I have time.”

“You’re planning on being a hermit?”

“Well, in the old world, I wasn’t planning on making it past thirty, so this is still a step up,” Gen says, voice glib, and closes his eyes as he gestures with his hand. “I’m sure we can find some abandoned tropical island and rig me up a phone.”

He jerks when he feels Senku grab his shoulder, and opens his eyes to see the scientist focused entirely on him.

“You’re not going to vanish,” Senku announces, eyes sharp. “We’ll find a way to keep you here, safe and _sane_.”

For a brief moment, Gen doesn’t see Senku, but his father. Hands on his shoulders, speaking words of promise, with a head full of positivity.

Gen can’t stand it. Senku must see it too, because his face goes from determined to confused, and Gen takes the opportunity to slap his hand off his shoulder.

“Don’t you _dare_ promise me that,” he hisses. “Not you, of all people.”

‘ _What the hell does that mean?’_

“What, you expect me to just sit back and let it happen?” Senku voices.

“My father was a psychologist, Senku,” Gen reminds him. “He knew as much about the human head as you know about science. Everything from the philosophical to the physical chemical make up. He spent over a decade trying to find a cure, a treatment, _anything_ , that would dim it down. Anything that might save my mother, and then me. He looked at me like that, promised words with determination in his head. Every time I saw him, those words didn’t change, but his mind-”

Bile fills his throat, and he turns away.

“You’ll keep on a brave face, but I’ll hear the doubt,” Gen says. “The closer it gets, the more you’ll falter, until all I’ll hear is lies. Don’t do that to me.”

It’s impressive. For the first time since he met this madman, Senku’s mind is completely blank.

“...You can’t expect me to see a problem and not at least _try_ to solve it,” he replies after a few moments. “Just because there wasn’t a solution then, doesn’t mean we can’t figure one out now.”

Gen runs a hand through his hair. How is it that the other teen hasn’t realised the fundamental flaw in this plan?

“Senku, you have the same problem I do,” Gen explains. “You don’t have _time_.”

The scientist opens his mouth, but Gen doesn’t let him start.

“Listen! Without you, any chance of reviving the planet reduces drastically. We don’t have the manpower or scheduling to allow for experimenting or testing for anything that isn’t directly useful,” Gen continues. “Any research you do could only benefit me, and any other true psychic we stumble across – and believe me, there aren’t a lot of them. Don’t stand there and tell me you can justify sparing the hours, days, _months_ , it would take to find a possible solution.”

‘ _Dammit...he’s right.’_

Gen gives a sharp smile. “See?”

Senku scowls. “Okay, that’s going to get annoying.”

“Ah, you sound like my father.”

“And, as a master of psychology, you should know as well as anyone, that just because someone thinks something, it doesn’t mean it’s their true feelings,” Senku argues. “Gut instincts are immediate, and not always right. Just because you’re right, we don’t have time, doesn’t mean it’s pointless not to try.”

Then, he gives Gen one of those smiles. The kind he only gives when he starts a new invention.

‘ _Push comes to shove, by the time you go crazy, we’ll have access to whatever caused the petrification,’_ he thinks. ‘ _We put you somewhere quiet until your mind shuts down, and then we’ll have all the time in the world to descramble your brain.’_

Gen splutters at that thought. “That’s your plan? Petrification?”

“Worst case scenario,” Senku defends. “Besides, if you’re going to go crazy, would you complain about being knocked unconscious for a few months-stroke-years for the second time?”

Well...no. If he gets to that point it probably would be something of a relief.

As Gen relaxes, Senku smiles and leans back.

“So don’t sit there and tell me I just have to accept it,” he says. “I’m bringing back modern civilisation from literally nothing. This is just one more hurdle on the way.”

‘ _And if I truly can’t save you, then I promise, I’ll find you some sunny beach and hook you up with the best communication tech we can put together. But don’t decide that’s the only option._

Gen sighs, and closes his eyes.

“How about we focus on your current crazy idea and finish the cellphone before you start worrying about this,” Gen offers. “But if we succeed in taking out the Kingdom of Might...then we can look into it.”

Senku bursts into a grin.

‘ _Oh, I have so many experiments I can plan.’_

“Deal. Besides, once we get access to the revival fluid, we’ll be able to get a few more scientists and labourers in on it to help. It’ll be ten billion percent easier then.”

Gen chuckles, and shakes his head.

“I don’t know how I ever thought you’d react any other way,” he says, and then his face falls.

“...Gen?”

“Speaking of revival fluid,” he says, mind flitting to a statue, still singing songs after thousands of years. “There’s someone I want to revive as soon as possible...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, I lost a little steam with this and decided to cut it off here rather than try to struggle through any longer. Might add an additional chapter based a few years down the line eventually, but hope you enjoy it for now!


End file.
